My Immortal: The Rewrite
by 6She6Devil6
Summary: I decided to rewrite the first chapter of My Immortal, lol. Rated T because of the language.


"Hey, Ebony!"

Blinking, I looked up from the homework I was staring down at to the sight of mine other than Draco Malfoy walking towards me.

Confusion laced through me like a ribbon being smoothly tied into a bow. Why on earth would Draco want to talk to me? We weren't exactly in trouble same year so it wasn't anything to do with homework, nor were we ever close friends. Hell, one could barely call us acquaintances.

"What's up Draco?" I asked.

"Er, nothing," said Draco, standing in front of me awkwardly while rubbing the back of his neck.

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms in front of me and leaning forwards onto the table that was sitting at. "Are you sure you don't want something? Because no one walks up to me calling my name before saying 'nothing'."

Draco chuckled nervously. Nervously? Draco Malfoy getting nervous? It was almost unheard of. Well, there were some times when he could be utterly terrified, but those were far and in between. As the son born to one of the most well known pureblood families, Draco had been trained at a young age to keep up a mask of indifference.

Of course, that mask has slipped and will probably slip quite a bit more in the future. Not even Lords with ice-cold hearts can keep a poker face all the time, much less their children. It's no wonder, though. After all, the children had far less experience in their parents field of work than they have.

Personally, I've never seen Lucius Malfoy break the carefully crafted mask he had created over his many years of living. However, I _have_ heard the tales. While the stories may be far-fetched, everyone knows for a fact that there are only two people that can make him crumble. Those two people? Why, Dumbledore and Voldemort of course.

One his master and the other the only one his master has ever feared. It makes sense when you think about it. If Dumbledore could make the famed Dark Lord himself tremble, then why on earth couldn't he break the delicate mask Lucius Malfoy had nearly perfected?

I was snapped out of my thoughts by Draco opening his mouth to speak. However, that was the moment I heard my friends call for me from the other side of the room. Glancing over at where they were beckoning me over, I shot an apologetic smile at Draco before quickly gathering up my stuff, tossing my bag over my shoulder and walking towards my friends.

In case you didn't know, my name is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way. Ridiculous, I know, but that's a typical name for a vampire.

I know what you're thinking. _Vampire? That sounds even more ridiculous than her name!_

Well, my dear unseen friends, I can assure you that it is one hundred percent true. However, that's a story for later.

Yeah, I admit. My name is ridiculous, weird, and whoever thought it was a good idea to make one of my middle names _Dementia_ of all things was probably out of their mind. Actually, I know for a fact that they were out of their mind because it was my grandmother who picked it out.

Kinda ironic that the name she picked just happens to be the name of her mental disorder, huh?

Dark'ness comes from the vampire side of me. See, Vampires have 'clans' of sorts. There are many of them out there in the world, too many for me to name so I'll just say that I'm a part of the Dark'ness clan and leave it at that.

And before you say something like, _but it's just named after the word darkness_... where do you think the word darkness came from?

Raven and Way are the two most easy of my middle and last names for me to explain. Why? Well, it's simple. One is the name my mother wanted to call me at first, and the second is my actual last name. The name of the family I was born into—the Ways.

You'd think that with a name as dramatic as mine, that I'd at least have a more exciting name, no? Well, sorry to crush your dreams, but it's not. Although that depends on whether or not you're a fan of Gerard Way, because then it would be a reason to celebrate.

Sadly, I am not related to the man himself, but I have managed to settle for simply sharing a last name with him instead. Celebrity crushes are so hard to deal with, you know? The person you love—so close yet so far away.

I guess I never explained my first name, huh? Well, that's probably the easiest explanation of all. You see, the only reason my mother decided against Raven last minute was because of my hair. My long, ebony black hair. People have complimented it all my life, and I take great pride in it for not only that fact, but also the fact that it was beautiful enough for my mother to make it my namesake.

Rather poetic.

My mother was a little disappointed when I ruined the gorgeous black strands with streaks of purple that were strategically scattered throughout my head. Not to mention the disapproval at my recently dyed red tips. But she's kept her mouth shut, learned to accept it and has let me keep the colour.

Don't get me wrong, I loved my black hair—and I still do—but to me it seemed rather dull after a time. What's better to spice it up a bit with than some colour to make it pop?

People often say that I'm a cold-hearted Ice Queen who feels for none. That's pretty much completely wrong, but I suppose it's thanks to my icy blue eyes and my naturally blank face. I don't really mean to shut people out with the lack of emotion when people talk to me, it's just hard to get my emotions across when the person talking to me is someone I'm either not comfortable with or of whom I don't know.

Or both. It could be both. It's probably both. It's always both.

If I'm being honest—which I'm usually not very good at—I would say that it's probably the reason why I have such a small group of friends. They were the only ones who really tried to get to know me, and slowly over time they managed to succeed.

It wasn't a sudden _hey, let's be friends now! _sort of thing. It was more of a _they hung out with me, pestered me, and bothered me until I relented _sort of thing. The constant picking and prodding at my walls while also joking with each other caused us to simply... fall into the relationship we have today.

I'm thankful for that. Because without them, I'd probably still be the friendless Ice Queen of the Slytherin House.

Well, I wouldn't be completely friendless.

Willow has been my best friend since we were children. With her having to grow up beside me, our parents always pushed us to play until one day they didn't have to tell us anymore. She's been with me through my ups and downs, my happy days and my sad ones. Hell, she even got turned into a vampire with me.

Well you know what they say. Friends who die together rise together. That's definitely not the actual saying—I personally prefer the 'couples who slay together stay together' version—but we'll just pretend it is and move on.

There are many assumptions about me that are incorrect. Take my blood status for example. Many students, teachers and staff believe that I am a pure blooded witch when I am in fact a half-blood. You see, while my mother comes from the world Vampires, my father comes form the world of magic.

I'll admit, it was fun tormenting that Pink Toad—Dolores Umbridge—during her stay at the Hogwarts castle. As a woman who hated half-breeds of all kinds, I was the number one target on her list. Alas, she was too scared of me to ever do anything about it.

Why was she scared of me?

Well... let's just say that she won't be coming back to the school anytime soon. Oh, and let's not forget that the last time she saw me on the streets of Magical London she turned on her heel and quickly walked the other way.

Good times, good times...

Have you ever walked down a street and had people stare at you the entire time? Yeah, that's kind of what happened to me when Umbridge turned around and practically ran with her tail between her legs.

Though, I suppose I should be used to it. Then again, it's usually in Muggle London that I'm stared at the most. Why? Because according to people in the streets, the media and some random people who come up to me, I look like Amy Lee.

If you don't know who that is, look her up because I'm too lazy to add in an extra explanation to this chapter of my crazy life.

Reaching my friends, I smile, flashing my teeth quickly before we all turn and walk down the halls.

_Wait_, you must be thinking. _If you're a vampire, aren't your teeth sharp and pointed? Shouldn't your friends notice?_

Well, there are two explanations for those questions. The first one is that they already know that I'm a vampire. The second is a little more complicated, but I swear you'll get it once I explain.

This explanation actually ties back to the whole 'people always make assumptions about me that aren't real,' part back there. You see, while vampire do indeed have fangs, they only come out on feasting night or when we're turning someone. Despite common belief, we do not drink a humans blood just for the sake of it, nor are we bloodthirsty monsters.

We can live on regular food, it's just less filling and has a very bland taste. You see, once you become a vampire, you're technically dead. Because of that death-like state you're in, your senses become dulled. Well, your taste does at least. Why taste of all things had to be the sense that dulled, I don't know. Sadly, it is and now I will forever have to live without the taste of perfectly cooked chicken filling my mouth ever again.

The reason the other senses are strengthened and not dulled is simple. A long time ago, the vampires made this pact with an extremely powerful wizard. You might know him as _Merlin_. Well, Merlin offered a deal that the Vampires simply couldn't refuse.

Well, they could have but they were just a bunch of really greedy assholes back then.

Anyways, this deal stated that every sense would be strengthened to inhuman amounts, but there was a catch. One sense had to be completely erased. They chose taste, and now because of them I have to live without the pleasure of food for the rest of my half-immortal life. Sure, we can smell everything, but it's just not the same as actually tasting it.

Behold, another reason I wish to go back to being a child. I could actually taste things back then. I also don't understand why they chose blood of all things to be the one being we can taste, but since they're long dead as nothing more than dust among the winds, I can't exactly ask them.

There are a few things about vampires they got correct, though. We are all as pale as fuck, not to mention the fact that our eyes are this rather creepy red at night.

Seriously, do you know how weird it is to get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom then glancing up into the mirror and just seeing these glowing red eyes staring back at you? Not to mention I'm still more than half-asleep when it happens, so I always think it's some creepy ass dude stuck in the mirror before turning on the light and realizes that no, it's not a creepy dude stuck in the mirror.

It's just me.

If you couldn't tell by now, I'm a witch. My school is known as the best one there is, and it's name is Hogwarts. Strange name at first, but it grows on you through the years.

I myself am a seventh year and Head Girl. Not really sure how I managed that, seeing as I'm nearly always getting into trouble, not to mention that I'm probably the least trustworthy person you could have put in charge of the points system.

Despite all that, I have taken my newfound responsibilities seriously, and I haven't cheated the points system once.

Well, yet.

Some might call me goth, some might call me emo, I just call me myself. Though I guess I can see the goth thing. My casual clothes aren't that casual when you really look at them. For example, today I'm wearing a black corset.

Yes, I'm aware this isn't the eighteen or nineteen hundreds, but they look cool, okay? Not to mention the skirt and heels I paired it with makes me look pretty hot, if I do say so myself.

Another thing that would label me as a 'goth' or 'emo' would be my love of black. Black is my favourite colour. Yes, I know it's a shade not a colour, but I am _making_ it a colour.

My makeup is another big part of the label. Seeing as I'm extremely pale because you know, I'm technically dead, I've got to use what's probably the lightest foundation the world has ever seen. I'm practically white. I usually wear black lipstick, simply because I look good in black and my lips are no exception for that. I use the typical black eyeliner but use a nice shade of red for my eyeshadow. It goes surprisingly well with my blue eyes.

Walking outside, me and my friends were talking before our voices faded away at the sight of the other Head Boys and Head Girls. Not to mention the Prefects. Oh, the Prefects. They just think they're oh-so special, don't they? They weren't all grouped together, as they still stayed with their respective house companions, but they were still standing in the same general area.

Not all of them have the stuck up attitude they all seem to adopt after getting their badge, but a good number of them do, and it makes them unbearable to be around. They don't approve of me because of my carefree attitude. Well, that and the fact that I found ways to foil their points plans and detentions before they can appoint them.

With the rain coming down lightly on our heads, we eyed each other in distaste before I rolled my eyes and began to walk a little faster, but not before sticking out a middle finger in their direction to show them just how much I hated them.

After we had rounded the corner, my friends snickered softly, grinning down at me with smirks on their faces.

"If you glared any harder they'd have holes in their heads by now," said Willow, eyeing me in amusement.

"Oh, shush," I said, grumbling and pushing past them to keep walking. The sound of their soft laughter followed me down the hall as they walked after me.

~

**Well? How'd I do? Did I make it bearable to read?**


End file.
